The Babysitter
by Thanks for the warm-up
Summary: Young 15 Randy Orton is left with a female babysitter while his parents leave town. This means breaking some rules.
1. Chapter 1

"Dude, a babysitter! I'm fifteen! I don't need a babysitter! They're only going to be gone for a week and a half!"

"A WHAT?"

"A babysitter." Randy, a tall, muscular, not-quite-freshman-anymore was on the phone. He had made a three-way call the second he found out that his parents were leaving town for 11 days. And hiring a babysitter to make sure he didn't 'exercise inappropriate behavior,' as they put it.

"That blows, man," his friend David said.

"Yeah," agreed John, another friend, "I was counting on a party!"

"The worst part is that they're get some old woman. I just know it, man." Then, despite that it was only a phone connection, they all heard it. Mrs. Elaine Orton. Her signature screech of, "RANDALL!" practically rattled their windows.

"Looks like you've gotta go," David sighed.

"Yeah, have fun hearing epic tales of the terror of the Nazis."

"Dude, shut up!" Randy growled, hanging up the phone. "Yeah, Mom!" he yelled down the stairs.

"THE BABYSITTER IS HERE!"

"Dude, I'm right here. I can hear you."

"Randy, I'm NOT a dude, I'm your MOTHER," she turned to a girl in the hallway who looked about seventeen. "This is Randy."

"Uh," he said awkwardly, "Are you the newspaper girl? Mom, where's the babysitter? Isn't she ancient?"

"The babysitter is right here," the girl said, "And is more ancient than, well, you. So there you go."

"Oh."

"INTRODUCE YOURSELF, RANDALL!"

"I'm Randall- I mean Randy."

"Right, Chris."

"No, it's Randy."

"MY name is Chris. It's short for Christina."

"Oh, bye, Mom! Weren't you leaving? Yeah, so bye, have fun. Love you, bye!"

"Don't be so sad, Randy. Here, Christina," she said, handing Chris a large stack of papers, "This is the important information you might need. I'm not sure if it's enough . . . We've never left him alone overnight before and . . ." Randy's father walked up. He was a tall man wearing a cowboy hat with an obnoxious accent.

"Randy'll be fiiiine, Elaine, don't worry ya'll's little heads over 'im, he's a real good little boy."

"Dad, I'm not a little boy."

"Well, we're going over yonder to the car right about now, and then we'll be on our way to the big ol' boat." Randy's parents kissed him on the cheek and walked out to their car, waving one last time before tearfully taking off for their cruise. It was a sad day for the parents of Randy Orton. Their only son, left all alone, but for a babysitter. How he'd grown up!

"Okay, Randy, your parents want you to . . . Wow. They want you to bow before me and do everything I say without question!"

"_What?" _Randy asked. He had been too busy taking in her not-ancient-semi-older-woman-totally-hot-appearance to realize that she hadn't been implying something sexual. Chris looked at him with an amused look on her face. Randy looked her over. She was tall, about 5"10, just the way he liked them, with long brown hair that was twisted into a sophisticated knot. Her large eyes betrayed everything she thought and were a trusting dark brown.

"Um, nothing, I was just making a joke about this huge stack of 'vital information' that your mother decided to leave me. She wants us to eat some kind of pasta for dinner and then you're supposed to show me what room I'm assigned to. I wouldn't mind a tour either."

_Stay in my room! _Randy shook himself out of his mini daze and took Chris on the grand tour. But not before noticing that she had been checking him out too. This could only mean one thing. Trouble.


	2. Chapter 2

Tour of the house? Okay, maybe not such a good idea. Showing Chris his parent's room, the guest rooms, and, well, all the rooms with big beds was incredibly difficult. So many rooms to make out in, but so little time to utilize them. More trouble.

Chris then decided it was time for her to make pasta, so Randy sat around being Ingredient-fetcher-boy while she busied herself with this task. He sighed, wondering how this would turn out.

Finally, Chris exhibited the pasta triumphantly. It was hot and fresh and smelled great. Wow, it faintly reminded him of something else in the room.

"See! Doesn't it smell good! I've never made this before and . . . just, wow!"

"Yeah, it's really great. It, like, smells and looks great, I mean, since I'm a big pasta fan and all. Let's eat!"

"Wait! You can't eat yet! Did you wash your hands?"

"Gee, Mom, I guess you should start calling me Randall now, too."

"Well, it's gross. So wash them."

"Okay, I'll be back." Randy headed upstairs to wash his hands. He quickly washed them and then picked up his phone. He punched in a number, flash, and another number.

"Guys?" he said to David and John, "She's hot."

"Randy, you're losing your balls if you've fallen for some seventy year old lady."

"Yeah? Try seventeen."

"WHAT!" his friends chorused, "You're parents left you with a hot seventeen year old babysitter? No way."

"Yup. She's, like, tall, and yeah, she's totally hot, and her figure, it's so . . . man! But, I gotta go, dude, she thinks I'm washing my hands or something. Later."

Randy sprinted back down the stairs and sat down at the bar, shoveling food into his mouth at a rapid pace. He finished quickly and threw his trash away.

"Making up for lost time?" Chris teased.

"Nope, just hungry."

"Blah. Okay, so can I trust you while I take a shower?" Randy's eyes widened and he choked on his soda.

"_What?_"

"Can I trust you not to burn the house down while I get in the shower?"

"Oh, that, yeah. I thought you meant, like, would I spy on you, or something, and I wouldn't, so . . ." Chris gave him a strange look and took off up the stairs. Randy briefly considered starting a fire, but then changed his mind. He decided that after she got out, he'd ask her to go swimming! Fun, safe, no temptation. Okay, so a little, maybe a lot if she wore a bikini, but otherwise. She emerged wearing some sweat pants with her hair in a ponytail, looking slightly like a braniac.

"Chris?"

"Yeah, Randy?" She loved saying his name. He was so hot for his age. Why did she have to think this? She was babysitting the kid. "Did you know that in the UK and Australia, your name means, like, frisky and stuff?" He laughed before fixing his blue eyes on her. Trouble. Neither of them could deny the attraction. They needed a cooling off.

"Let's go swim." Oh, wait, he was talking. Chris mentally slapped herself.

"Your eyes are pretty."

"Uh, thanks. So . . . Can we swim?"

"Ohh, yeah, I'll go change. See you out there."

"Okay, then, good luck with that," Randy said before heading out to the pool."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N- Because of recent events involving Randy Orton, this chapter has been delayed and is a little short, sorry about that. If you're a fan you might like to know that his suspension has been lifted and he will most likely be returning to _Smackdown!_ soon. And yeah. In this fic, I have absolutely No Idea what year it is. I guess 2005 or 6 because of music purposes. So, read and enjoy. And R&R! At least I hope you will. Haha, okay, bye then. –CEO-

Chris changed into her bathing suit. It was the one she wore when she guarded (being a lifeguard, if you've never heard the term), so it wasn't some kind of sexy string bikini. And that was exactly how it should be. So, really, she just looked streamlined in a black one-piece, which, unfortunately, made her look classically elegant.

When Chris finally got out to the pool, Randy raised his eyebrows, because he had obviously been expecting a string bikini. Hiding his disappointment, he cannonballed into the water. After about thirty seconds, he surfaced.

"Chris, Chris, Chris! Did you come out here to swim or did you come out here to swim?"

"I came to watch you swim and make sure you don't drown," Chris said in her most boring voice.

"Oh, COME ON! Stop being lame. You're a lifeguard, right? So, see if you can beat me in a swim race!"

"Randy. I have something important to tell you."

"Omigod, you're not, like, a convicted murderer on the run, right? Because, gee whiz, that would be scary!" Randy said in a mock-innocent voice.

"That too. I just need to tell you something really important. It's because I trust and care about you." Chris walked to the edge of the pool and leaned down close to him. Randy looked excited. "Yeah?"

"There is NO WAY IN HELL that I will swim with you," Chris said, splashing him in the face. Randy looked offended.

"Chris, I'm so hurt. I don't imagine my dear mother will like to hear to hear that you said the H-word."

"HELL, Randy. HELL. Go to Hell." Randy gave her a Look when she said this. Right before he grabbed Chris around the ankles and pulled her into the pool. Insert Splash War 200-whatever.

Around 10:30, two very wet and very immature teenagers dragged themselves inside. Randy fetched towels and threw one in Chris' face. She dried herself off and pointed at the clock.

"Bed time."

"Read me a story. Come on! About Barney or something." Chris sighed deeply.

"Ever heard Trapped in the Closet? It's an epic tale of betrayal, love, and midgets." Randy cracked up and went into his room to change into his boxers. In a few minutes, he opened the door and gestured inside his room. Chris sat down on his bed.

"I'm gonna tell you an interesting story. It's about a man named Sylvester. So Sylvester is cheating on his wife with this woman who is married to a pastor. So the pastor comes home and finds him in the closet. So then Kathy, the girl who's cheating on her husband, is apologizing to him. Rufus, her husband, calls the a woman on his phone and tells her to come up the stairs. The woman comes into the house and it turns out she's a man. His name is Chuck, no relation to Chuck Norris, but he doesn't matter, because Kathy and Rufus get back together after Sylvester leaves. So he calls his house and a man picks up, so he's speeding home and policeman stops him and gives him a ticket. When he gets there, his wife is in the shower and he's like, 'Who was all up in my house!' and she tells him her brother came home today, Tron. And Sylvester says, 'Oh.' He forgot that Tron was coming home today. So they . . . um . . . have a good time . . . and he finds a rubber in his bed and is really mad. So his wife, Gwen, is scared, but then she tells him that she knows he cheated. Sylvester wants to know who the woman is so Gwen asks him about a girl Tina and he says it sounds familiar. So she says that Tina knows her girl Roxanne. Sylvester's like, "Who the hell is Roxanne?" Gwen tells him that Roxanne is one of her girls who knew this guy named Chuck. Chuck's cool with this guy named Rufus. Then she says, "Rufus' wife is Kathy. We both went to high school. She introduced me to the policeman that stopped you.' But that's all for tonight. I'll tell you the rest tomorrow. Night, precious," Chris said, the last part in a Gollum impression.

"Wait! Aren't you going to kiss me goodnight?" Randy called after her.

"Randy. You have got to be kidding me!"

"Just on the cheek!" Chris rolled her eyes, but leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. "Goodnight, Randy."

"Night, babe," he said, watching as she made a face at him and went to the guest room.

-End of Day One-


	4. Chapter 4

A/N- Sorry this took so long. I'm sooo busy. But yeah, I'm gonna try to update more. So sorry if you're a reader! This is dedicated to my reviewers- get ready for things to heat up in chapters to come.

Dancing monkeys. Yes, you heard me. Dancing monkeys. Imagine how enlightening that would be. You know what? Actually, it'd be pretty scary. But that's what Chris woke up to. The guestroom had a Cabana-like theme, so it was only natural that there should be an alarm clock with dancing monkeys.

So, doing what any rational teenager would do, she screamed and evacuated the room. Upon hearing this, Randy skidded to a stop in the hallway.

"What happened? Are you okay?" with a slight sound of hysteria in his voice.

"There are screeches coming from that room! Insane screeching and circus-y music!" Chris looked completely freaked out. Randy just shook his head. He slunk down against the wall and started laughing. Just cracking up.

"Randy? It's not funny!"

"Chris- whoa, just hold on, for, y'know, one minute. That was not some crazy person. Okay, get a grip."

"How do you know?" Chris questioned pointedly.

"Because it was the alarm clock. It has these dancing monkeys on it because the 'go with the theme' of the room."

"Why in the hell do they yell like that?"

"Chris . . . I have no idea. They're monkeys, I guess they just do that. Sometimes I think I should be the babysitter."

"Not on your life, Orton. Take a number. Babysitters are a dime a dozen."

"Y'know, I really hate that expression."

"I really hate that alarm clock. It's time for breakfast. Go change. But first, turn it off for me." Randy sighed and turned off the alarm clock. And unplugged it. Because who wants to wake up like that? Not him.

Ten minutes later, the two were downstairs munching on cereal. Mostly, they were being quiet, because cereal takes some skill to eat. Especially if it's the kind that they advertise for big mouths. Honeycomb, if I remember correctly. But they weren't eating that kind. Just some random athlete's cereal, like Wheaties.

"I like pancakes because they're stackable and I like waffles because you put things in the little holes," Chris informed him.

"Oh, that's nice . . . Do you think that I could have some friends over today? Like, just a few," Randy asked.

"But, also, I like cereal because I just love milk and the crunch and- did you say something?"

"Can I have some friends over today?"

"Like, a party?"

"NO! Unless . . . Can I have a party?"

"No, your mother said no girls over. So if it's a boy buffet . . . I'm fine with that!"

"I should be enough man for you." Chris choked on her cereal and snickered.

"Excuse me?"

"N-never mind. So, can I?"

"Be enough man for me? Someday, maybe."

"PLEASE forget I said that. Have friends over."

"If they're cute, yeah."

"Why should you care if they're cute? I don't think they're cute!" Randy said defiantly.

"Good. Because then I'd say that you could only have girls over."

"Oh, really? Well, in that case, I'm gay."

"Riiight, well, I guess I just figured I was enough woman for you," Chris teased. Randy glared and started dialing. Much more dialing went on than would be necessary for a few friends coming over, but Chris knew nothing. No one would be over until 7:00 that night, and she'd absolutely know then.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N- Oh my goodness, could I have sweeter reviewers! I doubt it! Thanks, thanks, thanks for the encouragement! I have decided to update again! Haha, usually I wait awhile between chapters to build hype, but since I love y'all, I think I'll go ahead! Keep reviewing and if you HAVE My Space, Add Me, mine is the homepage for our account. Once again- This chapter is for my lovely reviewers! So here I go.

Half an hour after the call-fest was complete, the doorbell rang. Randy got it, because Chris was nowhere in sight. John and David stood at the door holding a bunch of shopping bags.

"Dude! Let's party!" John said. David elbowed him and Randy glared.

"John! You're going to ruin everything if you're so loud!" Randy hissed. David smirked and John rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Where's this hot babysitter anyway?" Randy shrugged.

"Alright, we kind of need to find out then, because I don't wanna get banned from your house for this," David said. He happened to be the one with the common sense. They searched the house and finally found her in the basement, huddled up in front of the TV watching A Walk To Remember and crying.

"Oh man, Chris what's wrong?" Randy asked. Chris jumped.

"Hey, nothing, you guys must be . . .David?"

"Chris! Hey, I didn't know it was YOU!"

"Well, yeah, it is, Haha, I'm the babysitter." Randy glared at David.

"How do you know her?" he asked acidly.

"I've been going out with her best friend for half a year."

"Who? That Teresa girl? Teresa is _her_ best friend?" Randy was astounded. David knew his potential girlfriend and, yes, say it again, babysitter.

"What's wrong with Teresa? And Me? What's wrong with me?" Chris asked in an offended tone.

"Well, nothing! I just don't know how I didn't know you by now," Randy said, all agitated. He continued, "So, we're gonna go hang upstairs and be responsible and all, so just stay down here and have movie fest." Chris let out a wail at the movie, because some important event was happening, like the play or something, and she couldn't hear. They considered themselves dismissed and went upstairs to get everything ready.

Four hours later, the house, music, food, and drinks were all ready. Randy checked on Chris to find her asleep and closed the door to the basement, which happened to be soundproof. That was when the doorbell started ringing. Because this was the hottest freshman at school. His parents were out of town. Obviously, there had to be a party.

Within thirty minutes, the place was packed, the punch was spiked, and the music was deafening. Stacy, a girl from school, could not keep her hands off of Randy.

"C'mon, Randy, you weren't afraid to throw a party, so why are you afraid to have some fun?" she teased.

"Listen, Stacy, y'know, I just don't think that we-" Randy got cut off when Stacy frenched him feverishly. Of course, Chris had chosen this moment to walk into the room. Randy saw her immediately. The look on her face was shock mingled with fury. Luckily for Randy, Chris was intercepted by some big football that referred to himself as Bradshaw.

"Hey, Chris. Didn't know you would be here."

"Yes, that's nice, John, get away from me," she said crossly.

"Well, fine then, ya pea-brained prostitute!" he retorted.

"What'd you call her, Bradshaw?" Randy asked from where he'd magically appeared.

"Randy, shut up and go away. Get everybody OUT of this house," Chris hissed at him.

"Is Chris having some lady troubles?" Bradshaw sneered. This was when Randy decided to punch him in the face.

"Whoa, dude!"

"Check out that carnage!"

"Man, he just laid Bradshaw out!"

Chris took the opportunity to get up on the coffee table.

"Hey, guys, you might know me from school." A bunch of people yelled about how they knew her. "Well, I have two things to say to you all. Hi, hope your summer is great . . . and, uh . . . Get out!" Everyone stared at her. Then, being the tipsy teenagers they were, they went back to partying.

"Randy, this is all your fault! I'll never trust you again!" Chris yelled before storming away.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N- Hey, hey, hey! Thanks for reviewing! Keep it up! It really encourages me to write more! Haha! Thank you, thank you, thank you times a bajillion! It's so wonderful to hear positive feedback about my writing! Thanks! Also, I'm playing with a sort of strange idea for a new one, so stay posted! Love y'all and God bless! Keep reading!

Randy was pacing. He'd done it now. His parents would be coming home tomorrow morning. He just knew it. Chris would call them and he'd be screwed. Totally screwed. And he'd ruined everything! Everything that he'd worked on, all that he'd done to impress her. And now she hated him.

Randy didn't blame her, because at the moment, he hated himself. Yeah, so it's sort of harsh, but that party was off limits. Chris would get blamed if she let him have it. But there was no way that anyone could stop the party. There were tons of people there. Randy even saw a guy with an afro (he was pretty sure his name was Carlito . . . ) eating an apple and flirting with a dumb but totally gorgeous girl that he would have loved to hang out with.

But he was worried about Chris. Of course, he knew where she was, but should he try and talk to her. He decided that, yes, he should. Chris's bedroom (sort of hers . . . ) was obviously where she'd be. So, that's where he headed. He ran up the stairs, away from the loud party. This was his chance to make it all better.

When Randy got to Chris's room and opened the door, he knew it was a mistake. Not only was Chris is her room, but there was another guy with her. Randy was Absolutely Shocked.

"Who are you?" he asked the blonde guy sitting on the bed with Chris.

"Whoa, little man, chill. I'm Adam, Chris and I are just friends, so if there's something between you two, I have no part in trying to wreck it."

"Yeah, right, you pussy. Why are you in here with my . . . with Chris in this bedroom if nothing is going on. You think you're so tough with your long, chic hair. I could take you!"

"Jesus, Randy, just shut up! He's telling the truth! He's here because I'm really pissed off right now and his hair is NOT girly. Maybe you could take him, maybe you couldn't. Also, he has a girlfriend, ok? Y'know that senior? Amy Dumas? Yeah, it's her! So, go away, somewhere. To your room, or whatever, just get out of my face!" Chris yelled.

Randy looked honestly like a wounded animal. Like you would imagine that half-dead unicorn in Harry Potter. Yeah, just like that. It was sort of pathetic, but Chris started to feel bad for yelling at him.

"Look, Randy, I'm sorry-"

"Y'know, Chris, it doesn't matter. I understand."

"No, I shouldn't have overreacted like I did, but you . . . Don't worry, I'm not gonna tell on you. Go enjoy the rest of the party and then go to sleep. I'll discuss it with you in the morning. Goodnight."

"Night, Chris. Adam." Adam nodded and Randy left to party some more. Of course, eventually, everyone cleared out, leaving a HUGE mess for him to clean up because he KNEW Chris wouldn't do it. By 6:14 the next morning, Randy was fast asleep on the kitchen floor and the house was spotless. Chris and Adam were also waking up by this point and expecting to see a still raging party. God, were they surprised.

A/N- Sorry, this chapter isn't up to my usual standards, but I've been really busy, tired, and also working on my upcoming (and also WWE) fanfiction!


	7. Chapter 7

A/N- Wow- Guys, I am so sorry about not updating in a million years! I feel terrible! I really do love you and all, but I'm on summer vacation and I've been going 100 miles an hour all over the place! The good news is that I finished the Babysitter (the written version) so now it's just a matter of posting it on the internet. Unfortunately, this will probably be the only chapter I can post until next week! So, so, so sorry. But- I need characters for my upcoming fanfiction. If you would like to be involved in this, hit me up on my messages, or preferably on MySpace, because that would be a lot faster. It's our homepage, so if you have on, please send me a message there, but if not, feel free to email me, send it here, whatever. Thanks for reading. I love y'all. I'm gonna get down to it now!

Randy was sprawled across the kitchen floor with half of his body in the refrigerator, looking pale and exhausted. When Adam and Chris walked into the kitchen to get breakfast, they had extreme reactions.

"Whoa- You killed him, Chris!" Adam yelled. Chris ran over to where Randy was and knelt beside him. After nudging him a couple times, checking his pulse (he wasn't dead), and calling his name, she determined him to be out cold.

"Adam, you know, your attitude isn't helping! Should I call the hospital?" Chris said frantically. They had dislodged Randy's tall frame from the refrigerator, and his breathing was labored, sounding like he was having trouble, or had serious asthma.

"How will you pay for the hospital bill? How will you explain this to mommy and daddy? I'm sorry, Chris, but I can't get wrapped up in this. I have to get out of here, Jay is waiting for me at his house. Later." Adam took off, leaving Chris to deal with the unconscious Randy.

"Dear God. Randy, please wake up. Do I need to call the hospital?" Chris begged the dead-looking teenager on the floor, not bothering to try to persuade Adam to stay. At the moment she finished talking, a certain someone sat up in a creepy, Undertaker-ish way.

"Don't call the hospital. I might have to have some mouth-to-mouth, but that's about it," were his waking words.

"I'd call Adam, but I think the mouth-to-mouth might have some libidinous roots."

"What? Libidinous? I'd never do that to you! I don't even know what it means."

"Look it up," Chris said. They then went off to do what they did best. Pretend they didn't like each other from opposite ends of the house. Randy absentmindedly stared out his bedroom window and Chris scribbled on Stacy Keibler's yearbook picture because she didn't like her. Especially not now. That was when the parental units called.

"Hello! THIS IS BOB ORTON! I AM CALLING TO CHECK ON MY SON, RANDY ORTON! IS HE THERE? IS HIS BABYSITTER THERE? WHO IS THIS?" demanded a heavily accented voice when Randy picked up the phone.

"Dad- it's Randy. I'm fine, you don't have to yell. Chris is here. It's fine."

"Where are you, RANDY?" he yelled.

"Dad! I'm at home! I picked up the HOME PHONE! Okay?"

"Randy, don't holler at me, young man!"

"Whatever, Dad."

"Where's the babysitter? What would you think of us coming home early?"

"Dad, she's here and if you trust me at all, you'll let her stay here."

"Fine, Randall, we'll call you tomorrow."

Click.

Jay is Christian's real name.


End file.
